The Way It Goes
by Elendraug
Summary: Some hearts won't go on. (Slash. Sirius Remus.)


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The Way It Goes

By StarWolf

Written on scrap paper 06/21/2003 at 1:21 A.M.; edited 4/25/2004

Title: The Way It Goes**  
Author: **StarWolf

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Rating: PG-13

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Warnings: Suicide, blood, angst, deathfic, language, extremely mild slash, A/Uish, OOCness

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Pairing: Slight Sirius/Remus

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Genre: Angst/Tragedy

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Disclaimer: Don't own them. Rowling does.

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Distribution: Don't archive it.

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Summary: 'Blood...my blood...it's all over everything. Everything is all over...'

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Authoress' Note: I _still_ haven't read Order of the Phoenix. Yes, I suck.

Reference to "My Heart Will Go On," which is owned by Celine Dion and James Cameron.

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ORDER OF THE PHOENIX SPOILER for anyone who still hasn't heard who died.

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"I guess that's just the way it goes,

Forever's gone to never I must place you

With all the things that I can never have..."

-Backstreet Boys, "Set Adrift on Memory's Bliss"

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"It's a cruel, cruel summer,

Leaving me here on my own

It's a cruel, cruel summer,

Now you're gone

You're not the only one..."

-Ace of Base, "Cruel Summer"

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"God, oh God...please God, no..." I burst into tears, pressing my cheek against the wall, as the crystalline droplets slide down my face and onto the rough plaster. The solidity of the wall is remotely reassuring, because my own walls of security and self-control are crashing down and laying strewn about like rubble. My body shakes with the force of my cries; my chest heaves; it hurts. Badly.

Why? Why you, Sirius? As if you hadn't already been through Hell and back...no. It wasn't enough for them, was it? You'd only been trapped in that filthy building, horrid state of existence, pit of emotional torture that they have the nerve to give a name... In Azkaban for twelve years.

Oh my God.

All that just to end up like this. After swimming across that sea for miles in the frigid water, eating rats and running around with Hermione's pet, hiding in a cave with a hippogriff...all that, just to die.

I slam my fist into the wall, as hard as I can. I've never been one to act violently when I'm angry, but what I'm feeling is _far_ beyond anger. I am beyond upset, beyond hysterical with heart wrenching grief. There is no adjective strong enough to describe this emotion.

I punch the wall again, this time hearing a loud "crack" -- I just broke a knuckle or two. Pain dully registers in my mind, but it doesn't matter. You're all that matters to me, Sirius...all that mattered...

We'd both been through so much. You in that prison, and I was locked inside my own living hell. My best friends were either dead or convicted, and I thought I'd never see you again. It didn't matter that you had supposedly killed Lily and James -- as much as it ate at me to think that you'd done such a foul thing, I couldn't bring myself to completely believe it. Even if you had...murdered them, I would've still loved you. Regardless of the years spent apart, the things the general public wanted to assume, how many things were out to get you, and your being hunted by dementors, I still loved you. I still _love_ you.

My God, Sirius.

Never again will the wolf and the dog run together beneath the full moon, under a starlit sky, to play in the forest and the soft, grassy fields. The world couldn't bear to allow it, it seems.

I walk, hardly able to stay standing, to my sad excuse of a kitchen. I pick up the longest, sharpest steak knife that I own and finger the edge, slicing open the skin. A twisted smile creeps across my mouth as I watch the blood trickle across my twice-injured hand.

Who needs magic to kill, when I have a silver blade? I hold it out in front of me, aiming the point at the left side of my chest. My heart beat for you, Sirius -- if yours stopped, then so will mine. What's that one sappy Muggle song they've been playing over and over…? Oh, it doesn't matter. But my heart will _not_ go on, thank you very much, you stupid songwriters. They have no idea...I shake my head in an attempt to clear it of such trivial thoughts.

After all that time of suffering, betrayal by someone we didn't expect, confusion, and loneliness, fate granted us such a short reprieve. It was not enough. How could a few months make up for all that was gone, eternally unattainable? You can't bring back lost years.

The last Marauder shall die today. Tonight. Whatever the hell hour of day it is.

What about Harry? my conscience prods at me, screaming for me to stop -- if not for my sake, then for James' son's. _Now that Sirius is gone, you're the closest thing to a father or godfather that he has._ The voice of reason is right, of course, but I simply do not care anymore.

Fuck Harry.

I sharply drive the knife into my chest, my now sick mind savouring the searing pain that rockets throughout my nervous system. I twist it in, dazedly watching the blood gush onto my hands, my shirt, the floor...

Yes, it hurts. So damn much that I think I may throw up, too. But it's nothing compared to the hopeless despair I felt at the news of your death, Sirius.

Blood. My blood...it's all over everything...

Everything is all over...

I release a feeble howl to the air as I sink to the floor, the blade embedded in my muscle. The metal and my blood glisten in the dim light of my kitchen...

I'm coming, Siri. Please wait for me.

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Some hearts won't go on.


End file.
